The Things I Do
by INMH
Summary: …For those idiots. Raphael heard that Atropos had a little chat with Castiel and Balthazar.


The Things I Do…

Rating: PG-13/T

Genre: General

Summary: …For those idiots. Raphael heard that Atropos had a little chat with Castiel and Balthazar.

Author's Note: …Ku… Dunno.

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. It belongs to Eric Kripke.

()()

Atropos was not happy.

The Titanic had been sunk and time stream was back to normal, but that didn't, in any way, mean she wasn't still peeved at Balthazar and Castiel for drumming up all of that trouble in the first place.

It wasn't like she wasn't aware of the stakes involved in their war. When all was said and done, she sincerely hoped that it was Castiel who won, rather than Raphael. Of all the angels she did not want ruling heaven Raphael was at the top, right under Lucifer. He was an uptight jerk who wanted things done his way, not God's, and Atropos knew he'd be hammering out orders that would be trouble for her and her sisters.

As it was, there wasn't much for the sisters to do at the moment. They were reduced to noting minor changes in fate that should not have happened, primarily involving people who were resurrected through demon-deals and black magic, and how they were impacting the lives of others.

It was dull. Dull, dull, dull. And not originally a part of her payroll, so to speak.

At the moment, Atropos was observing a five year-old girl that had just been resurrected by her guilt-stricken father after his reckless driving had gotten them into a car accident. This girl would grow up now, have a life, make an impact on the world that was _not_ supposed to happen.

The wrong impacts at the wrong time could mean trouble. And as much as she hated the damn movie, the Butterfly Effect had made an excellent point about screwing around with the natural order. Some might have wonder at Atropos' coldness towards such things, particularly when children were involved, but recall that Atropos had been around for a long, long time. She had heard every single sob-story known to mankind, and when you heard them long enough, you started losing your concern over them.

"Such disrespect for order."

Atropos had been thinking it, but Raphael had said it.

She whirled around and found herself, literally, face to face with Raphael who, at the moment, was wearing a woman for his vessel. It was a little odd to see, as she had never seen one of the archangels use a woman before, but knew that making any smart-aleck comments about it would bring trouble.

Atropos sucked in a deep breath and took one large step backwards. "Raphael."

"Atropos. I understand you were paid a visit by two particular angels."

Oh _crap_.

Atropos, Lachesis and Clotho had prided themselves thus far on keeping themselves _out_ of the damn war, and it was pretty obvious what direction Raphael's questioning was going in.

"I did." Atropos smartly shut her book and held it to her chest, folding her arms over it almost like she was expecting Raphael to try and stab her and wanting something between his blade and her heart.

Raphael locked his- _her_- eyes on Atropos' face. The blonde had seen this before, was semi-familiar with the look that crossed the archangel's face when he was trying to see if someone was lying to him. Or was _about_ to lie to him.

"They changed some things in the past."  
>"And I made them un-change them. Problem solved." Atropos did her best to remain still and solid under Raphael's scrutinizing gaze.<p>

You see, she and her sisters had never strolled up to Castiel or Raphael and said "Hey guys, we're staying out of this one, don't drag us in." They had never declared, officially, their neutrality. But when a year of fighting went by and they were not approached by either side for aid (Which was surprising, because Castiel was looking more and more desperate as the days went on), they simply allowed themselves to fade into the background, hoping to not be bothered.

But because Atropos had so much as given Castiel and Balthazar a chance to rectify their mistake rather than destroying them on the spot or retaliating in some other way, especially when their actions had pushed and pulled directly at her nerves and her sense of order, it might be interpreted that she- theoretically- was sympathetic towards them or their cause.

And Raphael was a dick, so naturally he would take that theory and run a marathon with it.

Castiel and Balthazar were one thing, but Atropos did _not_ want Raphael for an enemy. There wasn't much that could kill her or her sisters, but Raphael could probably manage it if he really wanted to. And it wasn't like he would need much provocation.

"You didn't kill them."

"No."

"Why? You pride yourself on your role in maintaining the natural order of the world, Atropos. Why wouldn't you kill those two idiots for disrupting it?" Atropos searched for an explanation frantically, and was forced to latch onto one that, unfortunately, made her sound weak.

"I don't know if you've noticed," She said, cocking her eyebrow in a 'this-is-something-you-should-already-know' way, "But Castiel's been holding his own against _you_ for a year now. I wasn't about to take him on." She averted her eyes for a moment under the pretense of shifting the book in her arms. "Besides, Balthazar's a walking weapons cache, and he had that dagger."

"The one that can kill you?"

_No, the gag one that turns into a flower when you press on the end of the handle._ Atropos bit her lip.

"Yes, that one." _Dick_.

Not for the first time, Atropos was infinitely grateful that angels had a harder time peeking into the brains of pagan gods than they did humans.

Raphael's lip curled back in a sneer. "I thought you were tougher than that."  
>"I didn't feel like getting a knife through my back."<p>

Raphael was clearly displeased with the direction this was going in. "Why didn't you come and tell me what they were up to?"

Some of Atropos' fear trickled away and was rapidly replaced by anger. "Why didn't anyone tell _me_ what I was supposed to be doing after the big prize-fight went to bust?" She snapped hotly. "My sisters and I have been sitting on our hands for the last year waiting for someone to tell us what to _do_, but you've been too busy tearing each other's throats out. So if you have a _problem_ with how I'm handling things-"

Atropos' voice had been rising steadily with her growing indignation and fury, but was suddenly cut off by the feeling of Raphael's hand clamping hard around her throat.

"You," Raphael said coldly, dangerously, "Would do _well_ to remember who you're speaking to." His grip tightened sharply, and she didn't even have enough air to croak. "Castiel and his merry band of idiots are the _rebellion_. I am the _rule_ and the _authority_ in heaven. You will not disrespect me. You should be _thankful_ that I haven't killed you for allowing the traitors to escape."

Everything blurred, and suddenly Atropos found herself thrown, smashed against the side of the house she had been peering into. If the father or his little daughter inside had heard or felt anything, it was unapparent. She gasped and reached up to tentatively stroke her throat. She could already tell that it would bruise. She didn't need to breathe to live, but that didn't make it any more pleasant to have her air supply cut off, especially so violently.

Before she could regain her senses, Atropos felt Raphael seize her hair in a rough grip, using it to yank her head back. She didn't feel a truly potent sense of alarm until she felt the blade of Raphael's sword at her neck.

Again, it probably wouldn't kill her, but getting her throat slashed would not be pleasant.

"Listen to me and listen _well_, Atropos." Raphael hissed. "If Castiel or Balthazar cross your path, hostile intentions or otherwise, you will tell me. You will tell me their _plans,_ you will tell me their _activities_; everything. And if I find out that you have failed to do so or are, in fact, _helping_ them in _any_ way, I will make sure that you meet a messy end. Is that clear?"

Atropos swallowed. "Crystal."

Raphael said nothing further. His departure was silent save for the flap of wings, and Atropos stayed still for a moment even after she felt the cold metal disappear from her skin. Once she was certain that Raphael had gone, she climbed to her feet, forced herself to stop shaking and picked up her book again.

After one long, long moment, she felt the panic bleed into something she was a little more familiar and comfortable with, and without preamble she returned home.

()()

Her sisters were not her subordinates, her soldiers to order around. They each played a key role in enforcing Fate, and no role was more important than the others. But as she was the oldest and had more of a leader's mentality (Lachesis was too soft and Clotho was too irritable), they tended to look to her for direction.

And so when she returned home with a decidedly cold and determined expression, they took notice.

"Did something happen?" Lachesis inquired. Atropos hadn't looked quite like this since the apocalypse had been averted, though she couldn't think of anything more important than the end of the world being averted that would affect Atropos to this degree.

"Was it Castiel and the idiot again?" Clotho growled. She had a marked dislike for Balthazar and had maintained that dislike for well over three millennia, the recent Titanic incident having done little to improve that opinion. She _had_ been a little fond of Castiel, but that had almost totally gone out the window when Atropos had revealed that it had been at Castiel's behest that Balthazar had un-sunk the ship.

"Raphael, actually."

Both Lachesis and Clotho froze. They knew as well as she did their condition as "unofficially not involved" in heaven's war hinged largely on the attention that Castiel and Raphael failed to pay them. In all reality, once the Titanic incident had gone down, they'd figured it was only a matter of time until someone on Raphael's side remembered them.

"What did he do?" Lachesis, as mentioned before, was probably the softest of the three sisters (the likes of Dean Winchester would probably still consider her a cold hearted bitch, but when you knew her over a long period of time her comparatively lighter personality became more obvious), and her eyes flickered reflexively over Atropos for any injuries.

Atropos had not stopped walking when she'd entered the house, and was currently making her way down to the library, filled with the fates of thousands of millions of people from both present and past. Lachesis and Clotho were following closely behind, slightly unnerved at their sister's countenance as she stormed into the library and began hunting for a book on the shelves.

"Choked me, put a sword to my throat, threw me against a house and- oh right- _threatened_ me that if I- and I assume he meant you as well- have any contact with Castiel or his followers again, I'm to report it to him immediately. That he is the _rule_ and the _authority_ in heaven, and that I should be _thankful_ he didn't smite me for letting them off without killing them."

Lachesis and Clotho's eyes were narrowing.

"_We_ are not Raphael's servants to order around. We take direction from God, and no one else." Lachesis said, eyes narrowed.

"We should do something." Clotho said flatly, though she already sensed that that was the direction Atropos was heading in. She got her confirmation when the blonde sister found a book, tugged it out, and then whirled around.

"Exactly." She said, holding up the book. "In this particular novel are the names of the religious figures that Raphael has employed to spy on the Winchesters and report when any of Castiel's angels touch down in the area."

"We're going to kill them?" Lachesis asked, eyes widening slightly. This was a direct attack on Raphael's campaign. When he found out, there would be serious trouble in store for them.

"'Kill' sounds so nasty, sister." Atropos said promptly as she flipped open the book and began looking for the names.

"We're merely going to _ensure_ that they have some unfortunate accidents." Clotho agreed.

"And if Raphael discovers that we've had something to do with those unfortunate accidents?" Lachesis pressed, eyes flipping back and forth between them.

"He won't." Atropos assured. "And if he does, or decides to come after us without certainty that we're responsible, we'll officially throw our lot in with Castiel and his men. Now-" She tapped a page in the book. "-I believe Father Leonard Bixby from Wynnewood, Oklahoma is about to have an unfortunate accident involving a steam roller. Let's attend to him, shall we?"

Atropos and Clotho disappeared. Lachesis sighed.

"So much for neutrality."

-End


End file.
